It's What They Call Addiction
by xStarvationxDarlingx
Summary: After all the burdens that've crashed down on him in his life, Harry was finally becoming numb to the outside world, but inside all he could feel was the crashing pain. He meets others who feel like himself. Only, they have different ways of handling it..
1. Midsummers Nightmare

AN: Don't own Harry Potter [[sadly.

**Prologue**:

_"Do you know what it's like to feel numb? Or fake?"_

_"Yes. All too well, I'm afraid."_

_"Sometimes...You need to... Just to remember you're alive."_

_"So, that's why you...?"_

_"...Yes. But, I'm looking for a new addiction..."_

Harry shot up in his bed, gasping. What had happened? In his dream... He'd woken up because he'd felt as if he couldn't breath. It had felt like his heart had stopped beating. His head was light as he looked around his dark room. Nothing would have been able to bother him. Hedwig was in her cage, and no body dared come into his room these days since the Dursley's had NO idea he still wasn't allowed magic outside of school. They thought that they'd made him a special case, being famous and all in his world...

What had he been dreaming about? He was talking to someone, but he couldn't picture who. It seemed to be a girl, but it wasn't Hermione. Ginny? Cho?

Now, his heart stopped again, and he went cold. Cho had been his first kiss. He'd liked her a long time. But, it felt wasted. She still couldn't get over her dead exboyfriend. Hermione was with Ron, and he was happy for them... He just wished he could feel their happiness.

With that thought also came tears. He, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, survivor of Voldemort, winner of the House Cup, the most famous teen in the wizarding world...couldn't find anyone to share anything with. And yes, he cried from his loneliness.

----

Summer with the Dursley's now was quiet. Like said earlier, they avoided him at all costs. He didn't know which he cared for more. This way, he had peace and quiet. But also, it seemed like he'd forgotten the sound of his own voice. He never talked to anyone anymore, except for Hedwig, and that made him feel just a little crazy.

Until, finally, a letter came for him. It was from Hermione telling him to meet her and Ron at Kings Cross the next day. He was going to stay with them at Ron's for the remaining two weeks of summer and get their school supplies together for next year. Harry was so excited to finally have human contact; he packed within an hour after getting the letter. He couldn't wait...

But, his heart slowly sank to his feet as he remembered suddenly: Ron and Hermione would be a couple.

It wasn't the fact that his two best friends were romantically involved with each other that bothered him… Or was it? He knew they wouldn't parade the fact around in front of him, let alone anyone. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt… That bad.

With nothing left to do, Harry collapsed on his bed, and waiting for tomorrow.

Sorry this one was so short,

I don't have much to write about until they get to the train, honestly

Or at least until I add more characters.

R&R plz.

3


	2. This Beauty That I'm Faking

AN: Apologies for the formation of the first chapter, looking over it as I posted it, it made me seem very uneducated. Haha. I just need to get used to this new system. Well, yesh. Here's chapter 2, read and review, I'll love you[[hahaha. So many rhymes…

Harry didn't sleep the whole night through. There was a deep mixture of excitement, anxiousness, and fear brewing inside him. It felt like an eternity since he'd seen his friends. He couldn't wait. But…also, he couldn't push the romantics out of his head. How was he to react? The same as he always had? How could he do that, since he didn't feel the same as he had before? He now had this bone crushing loneliness inside of him…

He pushed those thoughts out of his head. Why drag the two people he cared about most down with him? Why dwell, worry? Today would be the best day of his summer so far!

As Harry rolled out of bed, he filled his mind with all the old memories of fun and laughter. He forced himself to think these thoughts as he showered, dressed, and gathered all this things (including his owl) and caught the next bus to Kings Cross. Not as much as a word came from any Dursley.

Needless to say, he was beginning to attract strange stares from the people n the bus with him. It was almost as if they'd never seen a snowy owl before. Either way, Harry was beginning to grow more and more uneasy in the Muggling world he'd discovered. He didn't feel 'normal' as his relatives had put it. And why should he? He felt himself yearning to play Quidditch, eating strange treats from Hagrid's hut, or even brewing something in his Potions class…

Suddenly, it started up again. Harry's heart began to ache as he thought of his last term. And, as if to make his heart sear with even more pain…

"Sirius…" Harry half whispered, half choked to himself, straining to hold the tears back. _No, please don't cry,_ he begged himself, _Not here…_Later, he told himself bitterly.

He managed to hold the emotional toxins back with the knowledge they'd be released later. He felt dead on the inside now. Why? He was fine just a second ago. Why the sudden change of heart?

Oh, yea… His dead Godfather.

Just as he was getting choked up again, he heard someone call his name. "Harry!"

He looked up just in time to see Hermione, Ron, Fred and George coming towards him. And for a split second, Harry felt a bit more relieved to see the twins than his own best friends. That way, even if they DID start acting like a couple, he'd have someone to turn to in a way, at least…

"Hey guys!" he said with a grin as he stood up, blocking all things unpleasant from his mind.

"Harry!" Fred clasped him hard on the back while George grasped his arm, "How goes it?"

"Great," he lied, "Yourselves?"

"Business is fantastic!" George exclaimed, referring to the joke shop the twins had opened after they left Hogwarts, "And Mum hasn't even had to turn the hose on these two yet!"

"George!" Hermione squealed, her face changing the color of her beaus hair while his ears went a bright pink.

Fred smirked, "They're just shy…" He looked at Harry's stuff, "Is that all?"

Quickly, Harry nodded, thankful that the subject had changed so quickly. "Great," The twins grabbed his things before he could, Fred handing him only his owl. "Then, it's back off to the Burrow!!"

Mmk, there's the second chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. More to come. Sorry its so slow in the beginning, I PROMISE it'll get better. R&R Loves!!


	3. Home Is Where The Heart Is

AN: Hey! Chapter 3 up now, and also I have a random thing up called "The Quest For Toast" So…if you want to read that….then at your own risk, please. Either way, here's chapter 3. Review please!!

They arrived back to the Burrow by Floo Powder after walking back to Diagon Alley from Kings Cross. The entire way, Fred and George were telling Harry stories about the things they'd come across in their new shop. "There was this one bloke," George started, "Alllways came in to buy these Exploding gag toothbrushes. We haven't seen him in a few weeks…"

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and gave a small laugh, but kept his eyes ahead. He didn't know why, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the sight. It was ripping him apart in a way, but why should he care? They were just holding hands, couples did that…

He closed his fist and put it in his pocket, trying not to think about it. He tried to focus on Fred and Georges' stories, but all he could think about was the warm feelings that those two must've been feeling. And suddenly, a hot rage built up inside of him.

Why couldn't he feel that love? Why couldn't he feel that acceptance? Didn't he deserve any after having everyone who cared about him in his family killed by the same person? He'd saved Hermione and Ron both so many times, and this is how they repay him? Where was his love, his affection?!

"Harry?" George asked, "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Harry was broken from his thoughts, "Yea, I'm fine. Why?"

Fred pointed to his hand, "You're knuckles are turning quite pale, mate. Why don't you relax a bit?"

"Was it really that bad at that Muggle house?" George asked.

"You have no idea," Harry sighed. He was glad that's what they thought was the root of his rage was. How could he explain that it was his two best friends, when he didn't understand it himself?

"No need to worry, you're with us now!" Fred said with a grin, "You look beat. Why don't you take a rest in your room when we get back?"

Harry nodded, "That sounds like a good idea…" He had to admit, he was tired. He hadn't slept at all last night. Nor eat, for that matter. He didn't like the hallow feeling in his stomach he'd always gotten at the Dursley's. Maybe that was part of his depression?

That's what he'd decided. The reason he was so upset with Ron and Hermione, is because he'd been alone for so long with his family [if you could call them that. His spirits lifted considerably, and he felt a lot more at ease. Things would be perfectly fine after they got to the Burrow.

--

"Muuummmm!"

"We're hooommmee!"

Harry heard the twins even through the soot in his ears and the din in the house. Harry couldn't help but to smile. He'd missed the Wesley's house. It was warm and inviting, and he felt secure here. Even with Fred and George setting things off every other hour.

"Fred, George, if you brought one more of your inventions I'll-" The sentence stopped as Mrs. Wesley shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes on Harry. "Harry!" she ran over to him and gave him a great hug, and Harry had noticed that he'd grown significantly taller than the plump older woman. "Oh, dear me, you're nothing but skin and bones!"

George blinked, "Mum, he's fine…"

"None sense!" Mrs. Wesley hurried and began to magic up something for Harry to eat, "I can feel his ribs, those Muggles aren't taking care of him…"

Harry blushed as Mrs. Wesley pushed him down into a chair at the dinner table and pushed it in to the point where the wind would have been knocked out of him if he'd moved any closer. George snickered, "Aw, Ickle little Harry kins…"

"Shut up," Harry said, his face turning pink.

--

After his fourth plate of sausage and eggs, Mrs. Wesley finally thought it fine that Harry go to his room and get some sleep. He felt even more sluggish than before with his stomach completely full. He trudged up the many winding staircases, somehow reminded of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione bickering behind him.

"Honestly, Ron, she's your mother! You could help her out a little."

"But 'Mione, she's a witch… She can clean up with a wave of her wand, that's how she ALWAYS does it! You can go in, Harry," he called up to his friend, and the boy who lived noticed that his voice began to sink away, "I'm going to go help my mum…"

Harry smiled to himself as he let himself into the room and began to undress. Things were the same, they'd never changed. Ron and Hermione would always argue, Fred and George would always blow stuff up, and Mrs. Wesley would always stuff you with as many sausages as she could magic up.

These were his thoughts as he pulled his glasses off and climbed into the bed in one of the cramped rooms. Sinking with the ancient mattress, he found himself too tired to think anymore, and for the first time in many nights, let himself drift off to a restful sleep.

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AN: WELLLL there is chapter 3!! I love you all. Review PLEASE, I really need it. Sorry things are soooo slow, they WILL get better and I PROMISE things won't be slow, just wait until we get onto the Platform. Wait till we get to School. Things are ALWAYS more exciting then.


	4. Can You Tell Me Something Real?

AN: It's been about a week since my last update. Sorry folks. Well, here's chapter 4. Hope you enjoy. REVIEW please. And recommend me to your friends. I'm not getting many reviews… [[

Oh! And since I'm so far behind on the times and JUST got the Half Blood Prince recently in the mail, I'm making this a Partial AU fic. Meaning it'll be like…Half my imagination, half JKR goodness. Thanks for understanding

Disclaimer: Don't own HP. But I'm dating Daniel Radcliffe. It's long distance, and we're moving very slowly… He'll learn my name soon…

_His heart was pounding in his chest and he held the back of his hand to her soft cheek. She was cold…so cold. It was like touching ice. "No…" he whispered and he brushed a lock of her wispy, malnourished hair away from her sunk in eyes. "She can't…"_

_She stirred, causing his heart to leap in his chest. "Please, be fine…Please, be alive…"_

_Slowly, very slowly, her eyelids gave a feeble twitch, then eased open – it looked painful, as if it required all of the strength in her tiny body. "Harry…?" she croaked._

_He swallowed, but nodded, unable to reply – all the moisture had left his throat and seemed to replace itself in his eyeballs. _

_"Call the nurse…" It took her a long time to speak, and she was wheezing, "I'm sorry…"_

_He pulled her tightly into his chest. So tightly, he loosened his grip with the sole fear of breaking her calcium deprived bones. "You can't…" he sniffed, "Not to me."_

Harry awoke to someone jabbing him painfully in the ribs. "Harry," he heard a voice, "C'mon! It's lunch time."

The raven haired boy rolled off his stomach and onto his side, looking at someone with a tuffs of red hair – he couldn't tell whom, for his glasses were off and on the bedside table. "W-W-Wha?" he mumbled through a yawn.

"Get your glasses on, mate," he could now tell from the sound of his voice, that it was Ron. "Mum wants you to come down to lunch. She thinks you look too peaky. Reckons those Muggles have been starving you."

Harry gave a tired laugh, "You have no idea…" he yawned again, "Dudley's huge as ever, and he's been living off Grapefruit and wilted lettuce for 3 years now, I think."

"Once a blimp, always a blimp," Ron said, picking up Harry's glasses. "Runs in the family, doesn't it? Heard something about his aunt once…"

Harry laughed again and took his glasses, things coming into view crystal clear. "Tell your mum I'll be right down," he said, stretching in a very catlike way.

Ron nodded and was off, closing the door behind him.

After he left, the brunette stared at the ceiling, the smile wiped from his face as his dream lingered in his mind. Who was the girl? He could hardly remember her face… All he'd remembered, was that she had appeared very, very sick. But, even with her being so sickly, she was very pretty…

He sat up, threw his feet over and onto the hard wood floor, and left Ron's bedroom to head downstairs, scratching his mess of hair.

"Hullo, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley greeted him cheerfully as he walked into the kitchen. "Come, come, sit down!"

Harry smiled warmly at her, thanked her, and took a seat in between Fred and Ron, looking at his plate in front of him. He inhaled deeply, and the scent of Mrs. Weasley's roasted chicken and vegetables reminded him of just how hungry he really was.

"Sleep well, dear?" he heard her ask.

"Best in a while, thanks," he replied with a smile. It was honest. At least the dream wasn't as bad as he thought…

"You sure you got enough rest?" George questioned, "You seemed to be awfully fidgety,"

Harry blinked in confusion, "What?"

"Yea," Fred was the one who replied this time, "You kept mumbling and tossing and turning. It wasn't too bad though," he said with a shrug, "Just seemed like you were having an eventful dream."

It felt as though the pit of Harry's stomach sank a bit when he remembered his dream. But just bits and pieces. A pretty girl, a hollow feeling, ice on his hand…

"Harry?"

The boy looked at Hermione, who'd called his name. She had concern etched all in her face, "Harry, are you alright? You were dazing off…"

Harry nodded hastily, "Yea, I'm fine." He cleared his throat automatically, he didn't know why. "Just…I don't know, thinking."

Mrs. Weasley walked over, setting the pot of chicken and vegetables in the center of the table, a plate of biscuits floating after her. She gave Harry a sympathetic smile, "We understand, dear," she said, motherly concern flooding her voice. "Here, eat up, you'll feel better."

Harry gave a small smile. For some reason, he was reminded of Professor Lupin. Their ex-defense against the dark arts teacher was always handing out chocolate to his students, particularly Harry. "Here, eat. You'll feel better" he'd always said. Lupin had been one of his most favorite teachers. Also, he was excellent friends with his parents. He'd learned a lot about them from him. In Harry's eyes, Remus Lupin was somewhat of an Uncle or extended member of the family. He thought this while he ladled up some of Mrs. Weasley's amazing stew, looking around at everyone eating around him…

That's when he started to feel sick.

He didn't know why, but his stomach suddenly gave a shallow rumbling feeling and as if anything he'd swallowed would be propelled right back which the way it came. But, he knew he'd had to eat at least something for Mrs. Weasley not to worry. So, he dipped his spoon into his bowl and brought the broth to his lips.

It was marvelous. Like always. Mrs. Weasley was an exquisite cook. The feeling of wanting to stay empty melted away, and with it he replaced the delicious stew.

Conversation flooded around him as he ate, but he only listened and took no part. Maybe it was because he was used to keeping quiet after living with the Dursley's. Maybe it was because he was still slightly sleepy. For whatever reason, Harry sat and listened to the chattering voices around him.

"Ron, why on earth would you care if Crookshanks caught hold of Pig anyway?"

"He went after Scabbers!"

"Scabbers wasn't a rat!"

"And Pigwidgeon is _sweet,_"

"Yea, Ron."

"Listen to your Ickle Hermy-Kins."

"Shove off, you two."

"Awww,"

"So testy. Curse of the Red Heads."

"Would you two _please_ leave your brother and his girlfriend be?"

"Mum!"

"Sorry, dear, only trying to help…"

_Please…_

Harry dropped his spoon into his stew. Who was that? It was a girls voice, but it didn't belong to Hermione or Mrs. Weasley. He glanced at Ginny, but she had a mouthful of biscuit, so it couldn't have been her…

_Come to me…_

Harry froze. The talking around him became a dull buzzing, and the silence grew louder and louder. He strained his ears to hear the voice again. _Who's there…?_ He wondered to himself.

_Help…_ The voice said weakly, _I need help…Please, come to me, don't give up on me… I promise, I won't give up on you…_

Give up…? What was going on?

_I promise, please…Just find me. Don't let go._

The noise resumed around him. He strained his ears as hard as he could, but still, he couldn't hear the voice again. Who – or what – was that?

Harry finished the rest of his meal in silence, withdrawing into his own mind, dwelling on memories and preparing himself for the worst.

After the meal had been cleared up, the Weasley children thought up the brilliant idea to play Quidditch – but Mrs. Weasley insisted that they must once again de-gnome the garden. "Harry, Hermione, you can sit on the porch, dears. It'll only take them a moment."

So, the two friends sat on the grass near the porch and watched as the gnomes flew in all directions. Hermione was curled up, reading a book by a Muggle author, so Harry stretched out on the grass, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. The sky was a clear, decent blue, with puffs of clouds spotting here and there. It was a bright, beautiful, happy day… So, why did it feel so dark?

The hearing of the voice kept weighing on his mind. Who was it? What was going on? Was it something Voldemort hatched up again? He knew, now, that Voldemort knew how to bait him. He knew Harry would crumble to help someone in distress. He knew of the connection the two had, he could get inside his head… Why hadn't he practices his Occlumency more?

"Harry?" the tantalizing young wizard turned his head sharply as Hermione pulled him from his thoughts. "Harry, are you alright?"

He blinked, feigning curiosity, "Yes, why?"

"You've seemed…" she searched for a word, "slightly distracted lately, ever since you've arrived at the Burrow. And another thing, you never replied to our owls?"

'What owls,' Harry thought bitterly, but merely shrugged.

Hermione sighed and closed her book on her lap, then set her folded hands atop that. "Harry," she said slowly, as if choosing her words rather carefully, so she didn't upset him, "if this has…ANYTHING to do with me and Ron…"

He shook his head, and Hermione looked rather relieved. "Well…is it about…" she paused for a moment, as if weighing whether or not to say: "Snuffles?"

Perhaps she thought it was respectful to him to use Sirius' "pet" name. Harry hesitated, before replying softly, "Hermione, I honestly don't know."

Confusion spread over her face, and for a moment Harry had to look away. He had the burning urge building up in him to jump into her arms and cry, and the soft beauty of her face didn't help this. She was Ron's girlfriend, his best friend. That's all. He'd never seen her this way before very, very recently. Why now? Was it his burning loneliness? Did he just merely want to use her for comfort?

"Harry," why was he using his name so much? It wasn't helping with the whole attraction issue he was having, "You can tell me."

"I know," he said, still not looking up at her, "I know, 'Mione."

The Muggle born placed a warm, comforting hand on his arm. It was weird… the rest of his body felt like ice, with the exception of the spot where Hermione had touched him. He looked up at her very briefly to see that she was looking at him with a soft smile on her face. He returned it, although it was very feeble.

"Hey! Harry, 'Mione!" Ron jogged up to them and again, Harry looked down hastily, "Hey, we're finished with the gardens – lets play Quidditch!"

"Oh," Hermione mumbled hastily, "I'll just sit here and watch…"

"Nonsense," Ron said, "You can borrow one of Charlie's old brooms,"

"But Ronald," she argued, "I can't fly."

"You know what?" Harry said quietly as he stood up, "I don't feel much up to playing, I'm going to go up to bed…Why don't you just work with Hermione on her flying?"

"Are you sure, mate?" Ron said.

Harry nodded and turned, "I'll see you later," and, without allowing them to say another word, walked off. He could hear Fred and George questioning the others of his disappearance as he closed the back door to the Burrow.

"Where's he going?" asked the twins simultaneously.

"Beats me," Ron replied, "He's been acting strange this whole time."

"Leave him be for a moment," Hermione told the siblings, "He'll tell us on his own…"

That was the last bit Harry heard in his hesitation towards the stairs to the room he was sharing with Ron, and it had weighed something else on his mind: would he tell them on his own?

Wellll, there's chapter 4. sorry it took so long. Read and Reviewwww


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